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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27516814">It’s Your Birthday</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanofaFanofaFandom/pseuds/FanofaFanofaFandom'>FanofaFanofaFandom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Character Death, Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov Friendship, Feels, Hopeful Ending, Hugs, Minor Natasha Romanov/Wanda Maximoff, Minor Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov Can Wield Mjolnir, Natasha Romanov Feels, Not Canon Compliant, Orphans, POV Natasha Romanov, POV Steve Rogers, Retirement, Steve Rogers Feels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 04:49:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27516814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanofaFanofaFandom/pseuds/FanofaFanofaFandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My sister is a huge Steve/Nat fan and was not a fan of the Endgame ending. So for her birthday (hence the non relevant title) I decided to write my own take of what would’ve happened if Nat survived Vormir and a couple other changes that I think she’d enjoy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It’s Your Birthday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Uhm yeah. I guess I’ll just say this isn’t part of my main timeline (if that wasn’t obvious) but I guess that’s it. Wasn’t planning on posting this so there isn’t much else...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell my family I love them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those were the words that sprung from Clint’s mouth as he loomed over Nat, demeanor pained and heartbroken yet determined as ever. His objective was as clear as the day he had been sent to kill her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So was hers. Only one thing mattered, she simply couldn’t let Clint off himself. She couldn’t. It was her turn to repay him for the opportunity he had offered her all those years ago. After five years of suffering and countless more of facing the horrors of her past, she could finally make up for it. She could finally extinguish all that red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had to be the one to jump off that cliff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking advantage of his brief emotional disruption, she entangled his legs with her own, wrapping her arm around his nape and rolling them over to the side. “Tell them yourself,” she huffed, firing a stinger into his shoulder. His body seized up as she pushed herself away from him. Turning, the ethereal auroras of Vormir were a melancholy sight just past the rounded indent of the cliff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Years ago she had told Steve she lived her life, “not to die,” but now here she was, prepared to do exactly that. To make this sacrifice knowing even still that they might not win. But she had to try. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ready to face her destiny, she bore down towards the cliff, time slowing to a standstill as each step brought her ever closer to her infallible fate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three steps…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two steps…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A muted warmth flowed through her, mind and body both accepting their outcome. For once in her life there were no shadow games, no ulterior motives, no fake outs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just this</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>BOOM!!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blinding flash hit her moments before the shockwave vaulted her through the air, her brain discombobulated for no more than a second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that was all it took. She found herself sprawled across the ground, the ring in her ears a familiar one. Turning, Clint’s face greeted her gaze as ardent as ever, but the inevitable hurt broke through the seams of his profile. The agonizingly beautiful landscape that was Vormir painted the background, it’s cosmic purple and orange hues swaying like the push and pull of the moon and ocean.  She willed herself to get up, ignoring the ache and strain of her muscles. She couldn’t let this happen. “No…” she grumbled, “dammit Clint no!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With everything she could muster, she dove towards his legs, whipping a grappling hook from her belt towards his leaping frame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it was too late, the tip brushed the Stygian toe of his boot as he leapt to his demise. Dread was a spider in her throat as she crawled over to the edge, watching his peaceful form fall towards the impending sheet of rock below. His eyes fluttered shut, not a shimmer of fear or regret on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” came her broken sob as her oldest friend fell to his demise, knowing the only entity listening was the shadowy red figure who had guided them to this hell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distraught tears streamed down her face as she turned away just before his body collided with the layer of rock. It was the last sight she had before blacking out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she awoke, she was far from the mountain they had just climbed, far from the cliff, far from Clint. A soft yet eternal weight rested in her enclosed palm. Prying it open, she recognized the glint of its coat, the aura of ancientness, the power it radiated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The soul stone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She clenched onto it tight, slamming a fist into the water that submerged her seated thighs. “Why!!!” she cried out, voice sounding broken even to her, “why him goddamit?” She pounded and pounded, knowing that he was gone forever. An everlasting exchange. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wanted to go back to the mountain and fight with that ghost to bring him back. She’d try anything if it meant that Clint would get to see his family again. But it couldn’t be done…a soul for a soul. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She activated her suit, not wanting to face the inevitable, yet also detesting the idea of staying on this godforsaken planet a minute longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s like…like I was made for this,” muttered Bruce, clambering up to the gauntlet with a determined look strewn across his face. The hum of power seemed to transcend her ears, as if the primordial energy were taking up residence in the deepest bowels of her brain. It wasn’t just herself either, that same sense of awe visible in the way everyone's gazes were drawn towards the sleek hot-rod red glove. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anxiousness drilled into Nat’s chest as she watched Bruce slip it on, an unbearable procession of thoughts jolting through her. She forced herself to be optimistic that this might actually work, yet at the same time despondence simmered within that Clint wouldn’t be here to witness it, and that Bruce may fall to the same fate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet just as she had felt so often in these past few years, she was powerless. She couldn’t change anything, none of them could. All their eggs were in this basket, and if it failed. Well…then it would be another failure of literally cosmic proportions, Clint’s sacrifice would be for naught, and all those lost would be gone forever. Sam, T’challa, Bucky, Fury, Hill, Wanda, and trillions of other across the universe would be well and truly lost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the gauntlet slipped on, a glorious, electrifying hum permeated the room, tendrils of energy railroading along Bruce’s arm. He dropped to one knee, clutching at the glove desperately, face strewn in agony. She reached out towards him, as did Thor, but Steve and Tony held them behind their shields respectively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Talk to me Bruce?” probed Tony.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m…I’m ok,” he assured, his breath jagged and haggard. With bated breath they all watched as the gauntlet raised up to his eyes. Nat could see the focus, the desperation, the sheer will in his quickly crumbling gaze. He snapped his fingers, and for a second everything seared white. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she was back. Bruce lay on the floor, Thor, Steve, and Tony rushing towards him. Tony sprayed Dr. Cho’s healing mixture onto his arm, plastering it to the floor. She remained still, unsure of what to do. “Did it work?” cried out Bruce. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know, but then a familiar buzz carved through the eerie silence. Her attuned gaze scanned, searching for the source before eventually landing on a phone. She reached for it, crumbling into shambles as she read the caller I.D. It would be nothing compared to what the person on the other end of the line was about to feel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laura Barton. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god,” she exhaled under her breath. The one man who wouldn’t be coming back from this. She swiped, dreading the first sprinkle of that sweet, homely voice. “Honey?” Laura asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Laura,” she answered, tone happy to hear her loving voice, but solemn as to how she was about to lacerate her heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-Nat…?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Laura I’m…I-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on Nat?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We brought everyone back but…” she trailed off, her voice decidedly heavier, carrying that foreshadowing softness that we all understand yet dread to hear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nat where’s Clint?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Laura he…” she stopped, her voice catching in her throat, unable to say what she knew she had to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Natasha where’s Clint?!” Natasha could hear her welling eyes, the quiver of her bottom lip, the utter heartbreak in her body. Her voice shattered into glassy shards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Laura…I’m so sorry…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare Romanov…don’t you say it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nat broke. She couldn’t hug Laura, support her, attempt to ease her pain. And the kids. Oh god the poor kids. Coming back to a world without their father, their own personal hero. Cooper and Lila and poor little Nate, who would probably grow up only barely remembering his father. They didn’t deserve this. They had supported their father when he took time away from them, missing out on countless precious moments, only to have him torn away from their grasp all too soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Laura I’m so-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>BOOM!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was thrown to the side, the phone careening from her grasp as her vision was filled with a cacophony of angry red and orange hues. Her stomach lurched as the ground collapsed from beneath her nimble feet, a deep chasm opening up. An intense, scorching heat seared against her skin before it just as suddenly dissipated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the second time that day an explosion rocked her world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After retrieving the gauntlet, fighting off those space dogs or whatever the hell they were, watching Nebula kill herself (or rather, another version of herself, which frankly wasn’t any less disturbing), she stood atop a mountain of rubble as Steve, Tony, and Thor took on the big bad purple dickhead himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanos. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bounding down the jagged hillside, the battle was rapidly turning south. Tony appeared unconscious after being friendly fired by Mjolnir, and Thor was having his ass handed to him. When she reached the bottom, a few hundred feet away from the four of them, Thor looked seconds away from death. Thanos had stormbreaker weighing down on his chest, true fear clouding his heterochromatic eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without a second thought she broke into a frenzied sprint, mapping out her route as she went, strategizing the best way to try and distract Thanos so Thor could go for the kill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But all that shifted in an instant. As her feet tore through the charred rubble, an unknown power surged into her. She had never felt it before, yet somehow knew exactly what it was. Though that hardly made it any less unbelievable. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pinned beneath his own weapon, Thor stared into the eyes of his greatest failure, seconds away from losing his life. This was it. The Mad Titan was simply too much for him. Four chances he had had to take him down, and yet only once had he succeeded. And even then, Thanos didn’t truly desire to fight back. He had lost again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then there was a flash, a brilliant gentle grey that knocked Thanos off course, freeing him from his grip. Mjolnir. He could recognize his old friend even if it were riding a dolphin miles away. The hammer whipped back, thundering towards whosoever wielded it. It zipped through the air, powered by its unyielding enchantment. Past Stark it flew, whizzing past Rogers, and into... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughed ecstatically, a guttural belch of utter disbelief. Of course it was Romanov. Of course it was the only person who hadn’t participated in trying to lift Mjolnir, and certainly the one who thought of themselves as having the least merit to lift it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Thor knew better. In his many years of experience with his trusty hammer, he had come to learn much about it. Perhaps most importantly was its judgement of character. It didn’t judge you on what you had done or who you had been in the past, but instead on who you currently were, and most importantly, who you are trying to be. And if anyone fit that, it was Natasha. For the past five years, indeed more than any of the original six, she had fought the hardest for the side of righteousness. When they had all left, she remained, unable to bring herself to stop fighting the good fight. She had lead the ragtag team as they attempted to make sense of the post Decimation universe. So of course it made sense Mjolnir would find her worthy, how could it not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Impossible power injecting into her body, Nat sprinted harder, moving faster than she ever had before, to the point it felt like her feet weren’t touching the ground. Then she glanced down, and she realized they weren’t, she was flying. She couldn’t help the grin on her face as she spun Mjolnir, relishing the look of utter shock on Thanos’ face as he watched her come screaming through the air. The power was electrifying, it coursed through every inch of her frame, a crackling aura the likes of which she wouldn’t have been able to comprehend decades ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just before she arrived, she planted her feet back onto the dirt, propelling herself off the ground as Mjolnir’s momentum simultaneously swung her up, the magical metal connecting solidly with the ugly ass purple chin before her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Nat assured, greeting her old acquaintance Carol with a curt nod. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s got help,” finished Wanda from behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Striding forward, Nat could see from her periphery the rest of the women swarm together to protect the gauntlet. The collective confidence, ferocity, and sheer power of all these women working together was palpable on the battlefield. Nat took the lead as they escorted Carol to Scott’s dilapidated van. Hammer in tow, she summoned a bolt of lightning, catching it with Mjolnir and redirecting it towards the bulk of the opposing army. Despite having twice felt the godly sensation, she still couldn’t comprehend the feeling of wielding lightning. It was like every cell in her body had just redefined the meaning of being “alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was awestruck as her bolt sliced a column through the army, Wanda and Valkyrie soaring up above to take on the chitauri leviathans, the rest of the team blasting, stabbing, slicing, and sleepying (what does the antenna chick do?) the rest of their enemies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she couldn’t waste time reveling in their own glory. There was a mission, and this time, failure was not an option.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had won. An innumerable amount of lives across the entire universe had been saved because of them. History would forever be rewritten because of what they had accomplished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet somehow they had still lost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she saw Tony on that hologram the rush of two decades worth of memories flooded her brain, emptying a hollow pit in her stomach that she knew would never truly be filled. Then she saw Pepper and Morgan, and her heart simply didn’t possess the stamina to hold itself together any longer. Then Laura, Lila, Cooper, and Nate stepped into the cottage, and those already fractured pieces were torn to shreds and entombed in the coldest abyss of her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How was it possible to have accomplished everything she had set out for yet still feel like she had lost? For five years this was all she had ever wanted, she’d literally dreamed of it, but now that she had it, it didn’t feel right. And why did it have to be them? It could’ve…should've been her. She should’ve been the one to jump off that godforsaken cliff, or she should’ve been the one to make the final snap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she wasn’t…and they were gone. Forever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t quite describe the feeling as she watched those two wreaths glide peacefully along the lake. The despondence was pervasive, a cloud that hung over the entire cabin, and the guilt was a frozen gash in the remnants of her heart, but by far the worst was the empathy. The unshakeable understanding as she stared at the four kids who would have to live on without their fathers. Yet unlike her these four would have to go on knowing that their fathers loved them more than anything, and sacrificed themselves for them, and in doing so had now prematurely rested their legacies on their shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They are the seeds in a garden they’ll never get to see</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tranquil reflection of the melancholy verdant forest glanced off the still lake, Wanda’s gaze as sullied and far off as her own. There they stood, two fighters, government experiments, self-proclaimed monsters...heroes. One journey approaching its conclusion, the other just at its dawn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d been standing there for five minutes and she simply couldn’t bring herself to meet the Sokovian’s eyes. Those steady auburn orbs whose underbelly danced with years of pain and grief. She knew they’d remind her of what they had accomplished, all those they had saved...and everything that they had lost to do so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It isn’t fair, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought. A strange belief for someone who had always resided in the moral grey of the world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just wish there was some way they could know,” she finally huffed as her gaze shifted towards the heavens, picturing two of her oldest friends smiling down on them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They do,” Wanda answered softly, her voice much too familiar with this situation. Hands that could tear apart buildings were feathers as they gently comforted her back, small circles drawing out a heavy breath. She turned to the reflection of her fellow redhead whose ethereal face offered a sad but comforting smile. She wasn’t sure if either of them truly believed that sentiment, but it’s what they would have to tell themselves to move on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bring him back,” barked Sam, one foot stammering against the ground like an agitated dog. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying,” scolded Bruce in reply, “it’s not our end though.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t give a damn just bring him back!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He missed his jumpoint Sam. I can’t control it...there’s nothing I can- what the hell?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, what the hell?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just give me a sec.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it Bruce?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just hold on Sam!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple of long seconds passed before Steve replaced the nothingness atop the platform, looking as if nary a thing were amiss. “What the hell was that?” screamed Sam, residual anger flaring towards the Captain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry…made an extra pit stop. I…I owed a girl a dance.” A reminiscent smile ran away from his face, staring off into the distance as if the 1960s were still a movie playing in his mind, Harry James still ringing in his ear. He tucked Peggy’s compass into his utility belt. She had moved on from him, and he had finally moved on from her, but he kept the compass, not as a pained memory, but as a reminder. They had moved on, but that didn’t mean they had to forget. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dammit Cap,” huffed Sam as he clambered towards the platform, his rollercoaster of emotions splayed across his face, “you scared the crap out of me.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About that…” Steve took his time to stepping off the platform, the few steps suddenly feeling much more meaningful. He looked to Bucky, his best friend staring back at him, face wearing a bittersweet smile. He could tell his old pal knew the decision he had come to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gliding down the last step, he wrapped his arms around his forever best friend, receiving an equally as wistful embrace in return. “It’s been a helluva ride Buck,” he whispered as they took a moment to lounge in each other's presence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pulling back, his hand stayed laced with Bucky’s shoulder, those earthy, eternally understanding irises greeting him. “Till the end of the line,” Bucky whispered, echoing back to countless memories. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Till the end of the line.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning to Bruce, a nostalgic smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Jolly green yanked him into a full bear hug and he responded in kind, disregarding how silly he must’ve looked trying to hug the mass of flesh that was Bruce. “It’s been an honor Steve.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who woulda thought…that day on the carrier…two decades later here we are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they separated, Bruce’s palm lay on his bicep, the touch of a friend. “I-” he started, before cutting himself off and simply offering a knowing grin that said more than seven PhDs could. Two decades and too many world ending battles together and now they both finally understood their time in this heroing world was coming to its end. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope this isn’t what I think it is,” spoke up Sam, “cause if it is, I didn’t buy you a retirement gift.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve exhaled out a chuckle. If nothing else Sam always knew how to bring levity to a moment. “Thank you Sam, for letting me into your house that day…and for everything else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Best decision I ever made man. Only thing that’s bumming me out now is that I’m living in a world without Captain America.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heading back to the platform, Steve unveiled a worn-down leather case. The familiar weight was welcome in his hands, but he understood it was no longer his to bear. Shedding the cover, aurelian rays glinted off the shield in a way that made it seem magical, iconic. Butterflies churned his gut as he strode towards Sam. Not out of nerves, but because he knew what this meant for Sam, and what it meant for himself. “It’s your time now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam’s face balked like he had never seen before. The ever-suave demeanor replaced by one of disbelief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C-Cap I...I can’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can…and you should. It’s yours Sam.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve watched with a hidden smirk as Sam’s hands moved tentatively towards the shield. Just before he grasped it, he spared a look to Bucky, who offered not just an approving nod, but a supportive, endearing smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had talked about this in the past. In the case that he ever died or when he finally arrived at the decision he had made now. He remembered the night in Wakanda as they sat inside Bucky’s hut, the gentle hum of crickets in the background. Before he had even offered his two cents, Bucky had already told him he didn’t want it. That after everything he had gone through, still not knowing if his brain was totally right, the mantle of Captain America was something he didn’t need. And they both agreed that Sam was more than deserving of keeping his flame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, Sam tucked his arms through the leather straps, and the time for the next Captain America had officially begun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well...what the hell do we do now Rogers?” asked Nat as the purring hum of the engine accompanied them out the driveway of the compound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not too sure...but what do you say we try some of that life Tony was always telling about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A gruff chortle escaped Nat’s lungs. “You know he’s patting himself on the back cause you basically just said he was right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve grinned, knowing Tony probably wasn’t just patting himself on the back but throwing himself a whole banquet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think we can do that,” she asked solemnly, “soldier and a spy without a mission? Living without something to fight for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After everything we’ve been through Romanov, I think we can do whatever the fuck we want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Steven Grant Rogers…was that the f-word I just heard dropped from your mouth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blood rushed into Steve’s cheeks as his lips pulled into a cheeky grin and eventually a full-blown smile, “figured I’d wait until at least a hundred ten to say it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nat snorted, shaking her head at the big blue boy scout. Tossing her jacket into the back seat, she stretched out, resting her feet on the dash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously Romanov,” chided Steve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What…we’re not ‘borrowing’ this one too are we? It’s yours isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just, have some respect for cleanliness will ya?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say Rogers…whatever you say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that they headed off, leaving their old lives behind, driving onward to parts unknown. </span>
</p><p>
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